


Hurry down the chimney...

by meletes_muse



Category: Sanctuary (TV), Stargate SG-1
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, F/F, Future Fic, Light Bondage, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-09 12:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8890933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meletes_muse/pseuds/meletes_muse
Summary: ’Twas the night before Christmas and everyone was tucked up safely in bed. A Sanctuary/Stargate festive crossover.





	1. 'Twas the night before Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Content notes: Light bondage and consensual spanking of an adult. 
> 
> Janet and Helen are practising risk aware consensual kink and have safewords ('nubbins' and 'Napoleon')
> 
> I don't own Sanctuary or Stargate.

 

_'Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse._

 

Ever since Helen was a little girl, she had loved Christmas. But her favourite time of all had always been Christmas eve: the carollers, the tree, mince pies in front of a roaring fire... So when Henry, Erika, and their ever-growing family decided to visit Hollow Earth for the holidays, Helen pulled out all the stops to make it special for her grandchildren.  

’Twas the night before Christmas, and all the children – Henry and Erika included – were safely tucked up in bed. Helen had happily offered to play Santa that night, insisting that the young couple were in need of some time to themselves.

When Henry and Ashley had been small, she’d spent hours choosing little gifts for their stockings, and when they awoke on Christmas morning, they would run into Helen’s room, chattering excitedly and clambering onto her bed to show her what Santa had brought. It was a happy memory, and Helen was only too pleased to be part of this little ritual for her grandchildren.

So, just after midnight, Helen and Janet crept into the Foss children’s bedroom to hang matching red stockings at the foots of their beds. Helen hadn’t been able to resist adding a few small gifts of her own. Once satisfied that the gifts were in place, they tiptoed back to the warm den. Janet grinned, “Good to know our stealth skills are still up to scratch.”

They sat there for a long while, fingers entwined, as they watched the crackling fire, revelling in the sensation of comfortable togetherness. The usually bustling Sanctuary had fallen quiet. _Not a creature was stirring._

On the table by the fire, five-year-old Erin had left a mince pie and three fingers of whisky; “for Santa,” she had announced authoritatively. Her younger brother, Gregory, who was now three, had left carrots for Rudolf, Dancer, and Prancer.

Janet surveyed the fare. “You can have the carrots,” she announced, reaching for the mince pie.

Helen’s reaction was lightning fast, and she lightly smacked her lover's hand.

“Ow!”

Helen teased, “Which one of us is Santa, my dear?”

“You’re a big meanie.”

Helen gave Janet a conciliatory smile, capturing both her hands and kissing her knuckles before pulling her close, so that their knees touched.

“Why don’t we share?” she murmured, reaching over for the pie, and raising it to Janet’s lips. Janet took a small, deliberate bite, closing her eyes and humming in pleasure as the Christmas spices flooded her palette. When she leaned forward to claim Helen’s lips, she tasted like cinnamon and sultanas.

They shared the whisky, feeding each other small nibbles of the fruity pie, and kissing like teenagers. After draining the glass, Helen pushed Janet back onto the couch. She took a moment to admire her lovely body, before leaning down and kissing her hungrily. Her hands wandered to her wife’s breasts, eliciting a small moan.

“ _Honey_ ,” Janet said, a little breathlessly, capturing her hands, “we should take this to the bedroom.”  

It was now Helen’s turn to pout. Giving a little self-deprecating smile, she pulled Janet to her feat. They had retained enough presence of mind to leave a few pie crumbs on the table, and Helen placed the now-empty glass next to it, ‘proof’ of Santa’s visit. Janet scooped up the small carrots. She’d forgotten to do that once at home and Cassie had worried that Rudolf had gone hungry. Or that maybe he didn’t like carrots. The following year, they’d had to leave out carrots _and_ oats.

The clean-up effort had broken the mood a bit, but as they walked, hand in hand, back to their quarters, Janet revelled in the comfortable normality of it all: Christmas, in Hollow Earth, with  _Helen_.

 

 

When Helen Magnus had a goal in mind, however, she was not easily deterred. Once inside their private apartments, she quickly shed her silky Christmas dress to reveal a blood red bra and panty set. Janet’s mouth went dry as Helen unclipped her bra, and dropped it unceremoniously to the floor. Her panties swiftly followed and she stood, naked, by the bed, as Janet’s eyes raked over her.

“Now, where were we?” Helen asked, slipping seductively under the sheets.

Janet quickly shed her own clothes, but she didn’t miss the lustful look in Helen’s eyes as she watched her, lips slightly parted, nipples hard. She slid into bed next to her love.

“Ah, yes,” Helen announced, resting her head on one hand as she regarded Janet with quiet intensity, “have you been good this year?”

But Janet was lost in Helen’s sparkling blue eyes. She sighed contentedly, breathing in the faint scent of cinnamon that lingered from the baking they’d done earlier that day.

“Well?”   

“Hmmm?”

Helen chucked and pulled her into her arms. She dropped a kiss on her auburn hair.  

“Have you been naughty or nice?”

Janet felt a pleasurable twinge between her legs.  

“That…” she smiled into Helen’s chest – two could play at this game – “ _depends_.”

“Oh?”

Helen toyed with a lock of her hair.

“That _depends_ …” Janet repeated, reaching up to take hold of Helen’s nipple and squeezing lightly, “on the consequences.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Helen’s voice was breathy, “I should think that naughty girls would have to be punished. Most soundly.”

Janet twisted her nipple slightly, and Helen gasped, placing her hand over Janet’s. Helen gently removed her lover’s hand before swiftly straddling her on the bed.

“Definitely _naughty_ ,” she husked, leaning forward to capture her lover’s lips.

“ _Mmmm_ ,” Janet hummed with pleasure, lifting her hands to caress the backs of Helen’s thighs. She swatted her ass, playfully.

“ _Cheeky_.”

Janet looked her straight in the eye.

“What are you going to do about it?” she challenged, biting her lip.

Helen chuckled, shaking her head. And before Janet knew it she was face down on the bed with Helen’s hand planted firmly in the centre of her back. She yelped as Helen spanked her right ass check. Hard. She cried out again with the second spank, reaching back to block Helen’s hand.

Helen tutted. “No, no, no, we can’t have that.”

Helen’s weight shifted on the bed as she reached for the bedside drawer. That was where they kept the toys. The decidedly _adult_ toys.

Janet squirmed as Helen tickled the backs of her legs with what must have been a pair of silk ribbons. But before she could put up too much resistance, Helen had grabbed both her wrists and deftly secured them at the small of her back. “I _could_ tie you to the bed,” Helen murmured in her ear, pressing her firmly into the mattress, “but I’ll leave it at this if you promise to behave.”

Janet squirmed again, more with pleasure than discomfort. She nodded.

Helen brought her hand down, harder than before.

“Yeow!”

“I need an answer, my love.”

Helen’s hand rested on her now-warm backside for a moment, before softly massaging away the sting. _Oh, that felt good._ Janet squirmed again. She wanted Helen to touch her. She _needed_ –

Helen brought her hand down again, this time eliciting a sensual moan.

“I can’t hear you, love.”

Janet groaned and gritted her teeth.

“ _Yes, Ma’am._ ”

“ _Good girl_.”

The satisfaction in Helen’s voice was evident. She loved it when Janet called her ma’am.

Helen set about peppering her love’s backside with crisp spanks, revelling in her gasps and moans. She adored watching her struggle against the binds and the building pain. She picked up the pace, and Janet cried out, kicking and drumming her toes on the bed. 

Helen paused, then, drawing her fingernails up the back of Janet’s thighs as she panted and squirmed, before sliding her fingers along Janet’s wet folds.

“ _Oh…_ ” Janet sighed, “Oh, _Helen_.”

“Do you know what Santa leaves for naughty girls?” Helen husked.

Janet shook her head, panting. All of sudden Helen’s fingers were gone and she felt a sharp slap on the top of her thigh.

Janet groaned, “No, _ma’am_ ,”

“Careful, my love,” Helen purred, voice dangerously low, “I would watch that tone if I were you.”

Janet shuddered. _She was so close_. Sometimes Helen’s voice alone was enough to make her ache with need.

“ _Helen_ , _please..._ ” she begged.

Helen softened, then. “Alright, my love,” she gently unbound Janet’s wrists, and urged her onto her back, “since you asked so nicely.”

Helen positioned her body directly over Janet’s, fingers gently probing her slick opening. Janet gasped and tried to lever herself onto Helen. But she drew back, teasing Janet’s pubic hair, thumb lightly brushing her clit.

“Helen, _please **.**_ ”

Helen relented then, sliding two fingers deep inside her. Janet moaned, grinding onto her hand. Helen pumped her fingers into her centre, and Janet’s hips rose to meet every thrust. She was thrashing frantically on the bed now, moaning and panting.

Helen’s clit tingled, aching at the sight. Janet’s breathing became faster and faster and she cried out, “Oh! _Ohmygod! yes!_ …. Oh, _Helen!_ ” Her voice went up in pitch and she arched upwards, grabbing frantically at the sheets. Then, all of sudden, she tightened blissfully around Helen’s fingers, letting out a long, shuddering moan.

They stayed like that as Janet’s breathing steadied, foreheads pressed together in quiet intimacy. Helen gently extracted her hand, raising her fingers to her lips and tasting them.

Helen had always loved Christmas eve. But this one was proving to be quite spectacular.

 

 

 

 


	2. On Christmas morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is fluffy and silly, but I couldn’t resist adding a follow up chapter. Happy festive season, everyone!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content notes: punishment kink 
> 
> Just to be clear: The author is completely and entirely opposed to corporal punishment (except kinky play between consenting adults, obviously).

Janet awoke slowly, edging towards consciousness. She snuggled further into the sheets, as if to resist the impulse. She was vaguely aware of movement in the room. Helen liked to be up early. Though, with the right motivation, she could sometimes be enticed back to bed.

“Janet, my love.”

A tea tray clinked softly down on the bedside table. She groaned a little as her body protested that it was too damn early to be getting out of bed.

“Time to wake up, sleepyhead.”

The bed dipped as Helen sat down next to her. There was no resisting now. Janet slowly opened her eyes, letting them become accustomed to the low lighting.

It was still dark outside. A number of residents, mostly former surface-dwellers, had petitioned Helen to adjust the climate settings to daylight saving hours. But Helen had refused. Apparently the humans who had first moved to Hollow Earth, millennia ago, had never thought to do so. Any such changes therefore had the potential to disrupt the fragile ecosystem. They were still learning, Helen maintained, and adaptations would have to be gradual. Janet had agreed, but on mornings like this, she almost wished she hadn’t.

Sitting up in bed, she drew the back of her hand lazily across her eyes.

“What time is it?”

“Five to seven.”

Janet groaned, “Helen!”

“Yes, darling?” Helen asked innocently as she passed her a t-shirt. Janet was shivering slightly in the cool air of their bedroom. Besides, it was probably a bad idea to drink her tea in the nude.

Janet fixed Helen with her patented stare, before pulling the t-shirt over her head.

“You know exactly what Helen Elizabeth Magnus.”

Helen’s dimples appeared as she ducked her head, smiling, “I know darling, but the children are probably up already.”

She opened her hands as if to say, _what can you do?_

But Janet wasn’t fooled. Helen was rarely this excited. She was surprised that she wasn’t bouncing up and down on the bed. Very few people saw Helen like this, so unconcerned with anything but the immediate moment – and watching her grandchildren open their numerous overpriced presents.  

“Besides,” Helen continued, as though butter wouldn’t melt, “Santa’s come.”

“I know,” Janet responded drily, “she’s the reason I’m so tired this morning.”

Helen pretended to look shocked, before continuing, slyly,

“But she also left you something.”

Janet looked at her, quizzically.

Helen reached under the bed to pull out a long thin brown paper package, with a jaunty red ribbon tied around the middle. A crook handle peeked out the end.

Janet swallowed, as Helen eyed her intently, passing her the ‘gift’.

Janet turned the present carefully over in her hands, as though it might burn her. _Which it very well might_.

“Shouldn’t it be a lump of coal?”

Helen pretended to ponder the thought. “In some parts of the world, you would be correct. But in Nordic countries, Santa used to leave bundles of twigs for naughty youngsters. I decided that something a little more… _traditional_ was appropriate in this case.”

Janet felt a tightening in her chest.

“You _have_ been rather naughty, my love.”

Janet scrubbed at her tired eyes.

“Uh… is this present for you or for me?”

“Well…” Helen stood up, smoothing down her dark purple slacks, and Janet was momentarily distracted by her fabulous legs. She was wearing a dark woollen turtleneck in a similar shade. _God, she was beautiful_ –

“I do intend to use it on your naughty behind,” Helen continued, unaware of Janet’s wandering thoughts.

“But,” she walked over to the bureau by the wall, “Perhaps you might like to use it on me too?”

The question hung in the air. Janet watched as Helen bent smoothly over the bureau, elbows and forearms on the leather desktop. She looked back over her left shoulder, worrying her bottom lip, “I’m terribly sorry, Miss Fraiser, I won’t do it again.”

Janet’s mouth went dry, and her heart pounded.

“Uh…”

Helen stood smoothly, looking very pleased with herself. “Well, I think we’ve established that both options are acceptable.”

She strode back over to the bed and offered Janet her hand, “Come on, love. No dallying now, or we’ll be late for the present opening.”

 

FIN

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> “Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse” is the first line of the poem, A Visit from St. Nicholas (1823) by Clement Clarke Moore.


End file.
